But in this sequel to Nevada Highlander, Alex has left the sanctuary of his mountains, finding himself near the coast of Scotland’s North Sea, festering in his role as boy-toy in Rory’s large castle bedchamber. For his part, Rory is increasingly bemused and confused by his growing attraction to the young man who’s so different from his previous lovers.

Here’s a scene I haven’t excerpted before, when the two men are together in Rory’s giant marble tub, and it’s becoming clear to Rory that his tub-mate wants to be alone for a while.

~oOo~

Rory eyed Alejo’s reclining form, his belly tightening as he pondered the man’s flat relaxed muscles and quiescent cock. Alex was sitting in the marble tub, his long legs crossed at the ankles, while Rory adjusted the water temperature and allowed the large tub to fill. It had been less than an hour since he’d shot his cum into his lover’s tight hot ass… yet he wanted him again, now.

With an effort, he remembered what Alan had said. About listening with more than his ears. Maybe that meant listening with more than his dick…

He deliberately held back, soaping his lover’s honey-brown skin then pointing the brass nozzle and rinsing, removing the pungent reminder of a hard morning’s labor. He worked his lathered palm under Alex’s armpit, hardening as he felt the silky hairs nestled in the warm hollow.

Och, I could foog this cave with my tongue while he jacks me off. We’ve not done that yet. Or ram my meat into it until I come all over his tits. He sought the other underarm, feeling the pre-cum seep through the slit of his dick.

“Tell me again, lad, about the … um, your new job.”

Alex waggled his brows at Rory’s rising interest and grinned. “Sit here with me. We’ll wash each other, and then I have a … something I need to do for the next hour or so. Okay?”

Rory let the nozzle slip into the soapy water and straddled his lover’s thighs. “Fine, corazón. But first— ”

“I’m serious. Let’s wait until later. I ate with Willie, so I’m not hungry. But you must be starved. Why don’t you catch a few bites to eat while I’m gone? I promise I’ll be back soon. We can talk then. Talk, and … catch up on each other’s day.”

“I’m beginning to think, lad, you want to be alone.” Rory heard the petulance in his own voice and attempted a smile, trying to belie his frustration.

Alex kept his eyes on his face, his expression never altering, as he took the bar of soap from his hand and briskly ran it over Rory’s shoulders and chest. “Alone, not necessarily. But right now, I have a task that’s better for me to take care of without …”

“Without interference?”

“Without my lover distracting me.” To underscore his meaning, he took Rory’s hand and guided it to his cock, beginning to rise like Moby Dick from the deep. “You see? Sometimes one head’s better than two.”

Feeling a bit mollified, Rory managed a grin and fondled the stiff velvet.

“Funny, Alejo. All right. I’ll let you dress, while I dash out a while.”

“Don’t forget to check on Thistle.”

“Thistle?”

“Our dog. Um, the new dog.”

Rory reluctantly loosed his hold on his tub-mate and soaped his own groin, not without a sour look at Alex; then after rinsing, he stepped from the tub, letting the water flow from his chest and testicles to the tiled floor and down the central drain. He walked to the brass rack and chose an oversized soft cotton towel then stood drying himself in brisk strokes, still admiring Rory’s trim, muscled body.

“Don’t get attached, lad. Remember, we’re seeking her owner. I don’t want to pry you two apart when the time comes to bid her a fare-thee-well.”

Alex regarded him with those deep set eyes, black depths kindled by some fire, like … like Vulcan’s forge in the bottom of a smoldering volcano. Those eyes had almost set him on his arse when they first met, thickening his tongue and his cock at the same bloody time.

“And you became my father … when?”

He loved it when his lover played the orphan card, letting his history without parents become a subtle weapon.

Walking close again, he leaned over Alex and nibbled his raspy chin, then let his tongue find the hidden dimple under his lower lip and finally his lover’s open mouth.

When he straightened with an effort, he played his part to the hilt. “When you hide your marbles, lad, and won’t let anyone else play. Go on, do what you need to do. I’ll be back when I get here.”

~oOo~

**So described by reviewer Alex A. Akira in Rainbow Book Reviews, here:

Nevada Highlander has met with huge success. There’s just something about a bigger-than-life Scot, whether he’s wearing his native dress kilt; or whether he changes into Nevada cowboy boots, tight Levi’s and a stetson. And the man he falls for, the Colombian cop Alex, is as smoky-eyed and sexy as they come.

And hoo boy, do they come …

Here’s a scene when the guys stop along Highway 93, heading into Ely. Rory Drummond is horny as ever. Still early in their relationship, Alex Dominguez simply isn’t ready for the man’s direct way of declaring his interest. This scene is told from the Scot’s point of view.

~oOo~

They were approaching the strange little oasis he’d eyed on the way to the ranch this morning, a petrol station and eating establishment, standing as a traveler’s last relief on the road into Ely before the road began to curve into Connors Pass. His stubborn cock told him he needed that same final release.

“Alex. Pull behind that … general store? I need to take a piss.” His companion smiled and slowed, then banked in behind the quaint cluster of clapboard buildings and hand-made signs telling him this was “Major’s Place.”

He unclasped his seat belt. “We can go inside, you know. Drink some coffee, take a wiz.”

Rory shook his head and clambered out of the van, coming around to the driver’s side. He didn’t bother to shield his cock from Alex’s sight as he brought it out of the confining Levi’s, pissing damned near five feet from him as he watched his lover watch his prick, fighting the erection as his urine dribbled and sputtered into the dry ground.

Finally he could fight it no more. His dick had decided to stand sentinel out here in the fragrant brush, defying the cold wind, the distant hum of passing vehicles, and every effort Rory made to empty his bladder. Alex was too close, his own desire too adamant. He opened the passenger door, his Levi’s gaping open and his cock stiff as a brick.

“You promised me a moment of privacy, laddie. I claim that moment for my own. Right now.” He reached to Alex, sliding an arm behind the small of his back. His other hand took the man’s denim crotch, his fingers in the crack and his thumb stroking the balls, easily bringing him from behind the wheel and into his chest.

The crotch was rock-hard, the chest was already heaving against his own as though in automatic denial. Alex pushed against his ribcage, his deep-set eyes defying this impetuous choice of love nest.

“Not here, damn it. Any freaking tourist could wander back here—”

“Don’t fight me, lad. This is more private than our damn cabin. I want you.” He buried his mouth in Alex’s jaw, biting and murmuring, reached his ear, fucked it wetly.

Alex was angry, he saw that immediately, and the anger was palpable enough to sing to his ready prick, fire his asshole a mile up his butt. “You can’t just grab me any goddamn time you feel like it. Get that straight. I’m not your ’ho. Understand?”

“Nay.” He began to finger the foogin buttons on Alex’s shirt, not even smarting when he slapped his hands away with a resounding smack. “Do that on my ass, lad, and I’ll come a mile high. God, yes, take down my trousers and show me how much you hate this.”

Alex was a strong man, almost as powerful as his determined assailant. Rory knew he had the advantage, because the place between his lover’s legs was so full of rock-hard cock the zipper had begun to gape open. No man so aroused would fight him until the bitter end. His desperate desire would overwhelm the instinct to fight back. He knew that fact intimately, and he used it.

He pinned Alex to the seat back and stared into the endless dark of his eyes. “Listen to me. The more you fight me, the more I want you. Want you to the foogin heart of me.” Something flickered in the man’s eyes, his tight mouth began to take on a loose, sulky pout. Instantly, Rory seized the advantage and began to bite the lower lip. He nibbled and gnashed, stroked and fondled until his lover’s tongue began to answer. First hesitant, still unsure. Next seeking its own vengeance, almost choking him with stabs of powerful need, then tearing at his mouth until they were both drawing blood and moaning.

Rory managed to lower his Levi’s to his thighs, then began to work on Alex’s button. He was thrashing and struggling, and his knee connected with his chin, sending a sharp pain all the way to the top of his skull. He felt his own grin widen as the hard blow served to channel his lust into single-minded intensity.

“Fight me, lad. I swear to God I’ll break your metal button. I’ll tear the zipper from these bloody trousers.” Alex relaxed for a few heartbeats, breathing hard, enough time for Rory to pull the Levi’s forcibly almost to his knees, exposing his sledgehammer of a cock.

“I want that up my ass.”

“No.”

“Show me how much you hate it, lad.” In a few deft moves, he was sitting on Alex’s ramrod prick. He’d already palmed the gel from his Levi’s pocket, and now he opened the cap with his teeth then spat it onto the seat. With one hand, he smeared lube over every finger and began to probe and withdraw until he saw Alex’s eyes begin to glaze with the need for more, deeper.

“Show me how pissed you are. You prick.” He actually did not expect the stinging blow on his ass cheek which sent a crack of lightning into the farthest reaches of his ass. Now aroused fully as a maddened bull, desperate to encase that wedge of a wide cock, he grasped it, lubed it, and guided it straight up his butt.

“No!” Alex’s cry came accompanied by another hard slap on the opposite cheek. His eyes watering at the intensity of his joy, Rory sank even deeper onto the blade of the man’s weapon, needing to explode, yet still wanting his lover to blow his seed to kingdom come, all the way to his prostate and beyond, to the gates of heaven.

Letting Alex’s thick cock coat his hole, he moved as a wave would seize the shore then recede, letting the instinctive rhythm intensify his lover’s cries. When he saw the orgasm begin to build in the man’s brooding eyes, he couldn’t stop pushing the invading cock ever inward, the spasms of his entire asshole gripping the length of his lover’s flesh while they screamed into each other’s mouth, a primal roar of release.

Afterwards, he straddled Alex and smoothed his cheeks, traced his handsome jaw bristled with morning beard. Some instinct told him not to speak, to let the man come to terms with being almost bloody raped. His near gentleness now was a need as powerful as his earlier frenzy to seize and be seized. The calm after the storm. Two deep needs, each balancing the other.

“You are a bastard and a bully.”

“Aye, lad.”

“That’s the last time you’ll get the better of me.”

Rory looked into his eyes, found a profound satisfaction there, and allowed himself a slight smile. “Good. I need to be taken down a few notches. You’re the only man I’ve ever met who could do it.” Alex relaxed a little, allowing Rory’s finger to continue its path along his jaw, down to the hollow of his throat.

“Do you think you have to make love like a bull elephant? Are you always so … abrupt in your sex habits?”

“Sex habits? I have none. And until you lad, I’ve never made love to a man.”

Enough. Let me not get this close, else I may never pull away.

He leaned a little and kissed Alex, as full of restrained passion as his torn lips would allow. “Time to find me a ten-gallon hat, Alex. All this riding has fired my need to be a cowboy.”

~oOo~

Find Nevada Highlander and its sequel, The Kilt Complex, at these friendly neighborhood links: